#Muse: Elaine Grazzo

[avictimofthejazz]

What Type of Love Interest Would You Be in a Dating Simulator?

The childhood best friend who's been in love with the main character their whole life

You're a loyal person to the core, and probably a hopeless romantic as well. You're full of love for those you care about, and that's both your biggest strength and weakness. You would do anything for them, even if it means hurting your own feelings. You will hide all your pain and your needs as longs as that means the rest gets to be happy. You biggest struggle is to clearly communicate your feelings, and you'll always try to avoid those conversations or pretend everything is fine (when it isn't). Remember you deserve to receive the same love you give.

The stoic team leader who doesn't trust the main character at first

You often feel like you need to take responsibility for those around you and to protect them. You struggle to show your love through other means, so you take that task seriously. Your friends know they can always count on you no matter what. However that leads you to be mistrustful of others' actions before getting to know them, usually assuming the worst of them. On the exterior you might seem cold, calculating and distant. But those close to you know that's far from the truth, you just have a particular way of demonstrating it. When it comes to love, you'll probably try to deny it at first, bury it before it grows more than it should. Mostly because you're so accustomed to being the strong one, that allowing yourself to be vulnerable for once scares you. But it's exhausting to constantly keep that guard up, sometimes you need to take a rest and allow yourself to be the one being taken care of. Don't forget that.

The socially akward brains of the team

Socialization doesn't come easy to you. You might struggle to be heard or seen by the ones around you so you prefer to avoid it all together, as frustrating as it can be sometimes. For that reason you might be selective with the people you blend with, and at times it might seem that nobody will truly understand you. But when you find those who resonate with you, you're an extremely kind and loyal friend. Most importantly, you're smart, and people always value that about you. They will constantly rely on you, ask for your guidance and advice, and you're happy to provide it. You like being the reliable friend. You don't get crushes easily, but when you do you don't really know how to handle them. They feel overwhelming and like a waste of time. There's no way they like me back, is it? What if I ruin it? What if I'm reading way too much into it? Remember to relax enjoy the feeling once in a while, chances are that your crush sees that intelligent and kindhearted person everyone else seen in you as well

Tagged/Stolen from: @timeguardians

[avictimofthejazz]

Elaine is still trying to figure out how she got herself into this situation in the first place! She has been thinking it over since they left the interstate but… nope… nothing is becoming clearer to her. She thought she had gotten used to sudden and dramatic adventures working for Dennis, but it seems she is not as hardened as she told herself. Otherwise, this little detour with Yovela would not have her head spinning so fast! When she agreed to take this trip with her fellow receptionist, she thought it would be a nice little road trip. She understands why Yovela wanted to go with another girl—a woman traveling by herself is just asking for trouble these days. Still… it seems trouble has found them despite what precautions they have tried to take. Running a hand through her painfully frizzy hair, Elaine runs her tongue along her bottom lip as she watches her friend. “Um… which enemy is the DMV cooperating with? I know my last boss was good at pissing people off—even got the office tossed a few times. Not an easy feat in the old building we worked in with their security.” She knows she is rambling a bit—she does that when she gets nervous—but she cannot think of what else she can say. The fact they are lost is obvious to both of them so pointing it out is pointless. So is looking at the map herself. Elaine grew up in a subdivision and lives in Los Angles these days. Anything beyond the suburbs is a forbidden wilderness in her mind, full of bears, cryptids, and serial killers. Like the ones that are probably lurking in that building right now… “Eeer… well… we might as well.” She eyes the building with a heathy amount of misgiving. “It’s not like we’ll learn anything useful just sitting in the car.” She eyes the gun when Yovela goes for it. “Probably a good idea. We don’t know how friendly the people are out here…” She hesitates before starting to get out of the car

“Um… Miss Jarvis… you were just joking about the DMV cooperating with enemy operatives… right? There isn’t some big, secret conspiracy around this trip that I missed. Right?” She swallows nervously.

@avictimofthejazz Yovela & Elaine: Did we make a wrong turn?

The very same inquiry burdens the irises of Yovela Jarvis's usually subdued doe-eyes. Lips warp in confusion as the map is briefly consulted, then the road. A breath lingers somewhere between exhale and inhale. "This can not be right-" she grumbles in her stiffly ENGLISH tone. The map is turned and twisted. Her tongue paints a deliberate path along the brim of her lower-lip. "Those cheeky little blighters from the Department of Motor Vehicle Operations must be cooperating with ENEMY operatives." There's a snarl hidden in the undercurrent of her words; words spoken with the ultimate distaste.

Finally, the breath is fully released. The paper map is returned to an upright positioning. She looks the forlorn appearing building over. "Might as well check it out, just in case. What say you, Ms. Grazzo?" She questions, reaching for her tranquilizer gun. "Just in case we run into anyone who should manage to get a little feisty."

[thereismoretomylifethenice]

//Since I have a few more followers around, here are all the RP blogs you can find me at @thereismoretomylifethenice Disney’s Frozen muses--Queen Elsa (most active), Kristoff and Hans. (low activity in general) 

@avictimofthejazz 1970s/1980s Multi-muse. A-Team, SWAT 1975, Knight Rider, Adam-12, Remington Steele, and Booker muses. Characters as follows: Templeton ‘Face Man’ Peck, BA Baracus, Dr. Maggie Sullivan, Dr. Kelly Stevens, Officer Jim Street, Michael Knight, Officer Jim Reed, Murphy Michaels, and Elaine Grazzo.  (High activity) 

@fourcornersarizona --1998 Magnificent 7 muses--Vin Tanner, Mary Travis & Inez Recillos (Low activity but still active) 

@anoseforrottenapples -- British-eque Multi muses. Midsomer Murders, Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple, Turn: Washington’s Spies. Characters as follows, Gavin Troy, Miss Marple, and Mary Woodhull. (High activity) 

All blogs are crossover and multi-verse friendly. Historical muses have modern/mostly modern AUs, more modern muses have historical AUs. Housekeeping is embarrassingly far behind--just message me if you have questions XD

[iloveitxwhenaplanxcomestogether]

Troubled Waters: (Booker 1989)

       When Molly Smith’s Aunt Janet was executed Booker and Elaine are left as her sole custodians. Through no mistakes of their own, they discover they’ve been thrown into an ugly, perilous situation. 

__________________________________________

The adrenaline rush is as deafening as the raucous whir of a jet-engine. The steady thunder housed inside of Booker’s chest amplifies ten-fold, till it blueprints against the shells of both of ears. Every single one of his nerve endings bristles to life, crackling with the fury of an out of control inferno coupled with the weighted anticipation of trouble.

Trembling hands curl about the glacial stainless steel of the Kimber Rapide 9mm that has been his constant companion since the days when he carried a badge. Concealed in the inky black of shadows, Booker expertly stalks towards the dimly illuminated window. His tentative dark-eyed gaze pulls towards the glass, keen on observing how many intruders were about to barge into Elaine’s immaculate place.

Five against one. Those were some FANTASTIC odds if the numbers were on your side. Tonight, they definitely weren’t on his. A vehement curse is stifled under his breath when Booker noticed the heavy artillery being toted the not-so peaceful interlopers.

It’s probably those same jerk-wads who executed Molly’s Aunt Janet. Or worse, an entirely new crew of pissed off individuals. Deep down, Booker harbored the suspicion that Aunt Janet’s death and this impending incident were connected. Where the lines of this case intersected with the murder that landed him a role as a full-blown guardian of Molly, he doesn’t know. Right now, he doesn’t have the luxury of caring or analyzing. He’s got bigger things to worry about.

“Elaine?” He rumbles with a surge of protectiveness swirling beneath her name. “Get Molly, take the back way out of here.”

His reward was a questioning glance from his trusted secretary.

Elaine swallows uneasily. The brunette has been with Booker long enough to discern when his terse tonality bespoke a foray into danger. With a sense of urgency and trepidation, Elaine pushes out of her chair. The files they’d been digging through are completely abandoned in favor of complying with the new orders. "Dennis, who is it? What's going on? What do they want? And where are you going?" She asks, voice tremulous and scantily covering the pinch of terror rising up inside of her. This was her apartment. Why would a threat be arising here? She wasn’t as adept at making enemies as Dennis was.

"This isn't a good time, Elaine. " Booker snarls more forcefully than he intended to. When was it ever an opportune moment? Never, his mind answers the unspoken question. Yet, it does not negate the fact that he has to get them out of here.

Now, it is his turn to swallow a tight wad of dread that had risen into his throat. "Just do as I say. 'kay? We can discuss this later." He hisses, leaving zero space for a debate. Booker could only hope and pray that there would be a later. At this time, it was looking doubtful. While he willfully walked into perilous situations, he was not copacetic with dragging two innocent people along for the action.

Elaine viscerally tenses. Any hint of an argument perched upon her parted lips vaporized with one look into his steely eyes.

Realizing he hadn’t given her further instruction, Booker follows her to the room where Molly was sleeping. Dennis adds, “what ever you do, don’t stop till you get to the Jump Street Chapel. You know where that is. Don’t you?” He’d pointed out the place once or twice before.

Elaine hesitates for a brief second before nodding in affirmation. Jump Street Chapel wasn’t much of a building. Heck, it hardly bore any resemblance to any house of God she’s ever been too. In fact, was hardly a landmark by any means. If one wasn’t expressly looking for it, it would be easy to pass by. Why he was so steeped with adoration for that place, Elaine really couldn’t fathom. It’s not like Dennis cheerfully opened up to her. His past was still every bit a mystery as it had been in the beginning. He never talked about his history, about his work as a police officer, or the events surrounding the surrender of his badge.

All Elaine did know, was that Dennis spoke highly of Captain Adam Fuller, a Doug Pennhall, and a Judy Hoffs. If he’s telling her to take refuge there, things were probably bound to get really ugly.

Hurriedly Elaine moves to obey. "Molly, honey.." She actively beseeches, standing over the six-year-old's sleeping frame. She presses a tender hand to the tiny shoulder to gingerly rouse her. “We’ve got to go on a little adventure...” It’s a bold face lie. One Elaine hopes little Molly is not coherent enough to question. The kid was smart; almost too smart for her own good.

Molly’s dark orbs are still entrenched, tangled in the deepest enchantments of slumber, as they begrudgingly pry open. She’d been dreaming about her father, about the vagrant, but wonderful life they led before he vanished. Almost every night there had been a new city, a new car. Waking to grim reality, the car, Eddie, and her father vanished. Everything but Booker and Elaine who, now consumed most of her vision.

“Money in the bank?” She rumbles beneath her breath. The lowly beckoning of grogginess still clung to every syllable uttered from her mouth like an early morning, October haze. Instinct compels her to reach for her ‘Everything Bag’. Even before her father’s murder, she would not deign to be without it. It lay in any bed next to her small frame.

Elaine’s gaze shifts concernedly towards Booker’s as if in need of an explanation. Booker, however, doesn’t have the luxury of casual conversations right this instant. “Yeah, somethin’ like that, sweetheart. You and Auntie Elaine are going to visit where Uncle Dennis works...” He retracts his statement slowly. “Where uncle Dennis -used- to work.” Booker still winces, agonized by the semantics. Maybe one day he’d adjust to that change, to the fact he no longer shares employment of the badge.

He presently works for Teshima. It’s not all unpleasant. It connected him with Elaine. Elaine’s the sole reason he stays sane in the awful transition. She’s the sole reason he hasn’t expressly told Chick where to shove his lousy attitude or his threats. She needed him as desperately as he needed her.

Booker’s back presses against the jam of the door knowing they have mere seconds left to complete the evacuation. “Come on, kiddo. It’s taking you longer than six seconds. You getting slow on me or somethin’?” He murmurs, trying to entertain a wedge of ill-timed humor. It’s a mechanism to cover the rise of his fears.

“No. I’m not slow.” Molly assertively grumbles ready to prove her worth and readiness, even with an undissmissible hedge of tired offense sheltering her words. Her own fingers cradle the straps to her ‘Everything Bag’ very tightly. Molly is about to inquire as to where they were going when Booker interjects.

“Sides who else is going to make Auntie Elaine an expert on repoing cars?” He challenges. Fishing into his pocket with his free hand, he dangles the keys to his convertible before her. The best thing about that hunk of metal was, he truly did not care what happened to it. He’s well aware that Molly won’t be a licensed driver for another ten years, or more but tonight, he doesn’t care. He would never openly admit to encouraging illegal behavior, but hey, if it got her the hell out of there with Elaine, why not?

The soft clinking of keys on a chain renders the young girl abruptly alert. “I can show her! I know exactly what to do!” She eagerly bounces allowing Elaine to scoop her into her arms.

“I know ya do.” Booker chimes.

Tiny fingers hurriedly clasp around the keys; much to Elaine’s perturbed scrutiny.

In truth, Molly didn’t need the keys. She knew how to dismantle alarm systems better than all of the professionals Booker is acquainted with. The former cop is fully cognizant of Molly’s unusual skillset because she openly displayed them for him and Reggie. He had been impressed by the extent of her knowledge towards which wires to cross, how, and how fast to do it. Her father had drilled it into her memory so expertly, he doubts that she’d never forget.

Booker is pleased to discover that his not-so-veiled efforts at bribery had worked so skillfully. When his Molly gets older, man, there’d be no stopping her. He doesn’t have time to bask in proud guardianship splendor nor can he relish the thought of her growing up any longer than he already had. “That’s my girl.” Dennis chirps. He hides the scant inklings of a smile behind a façade of sternness.

“Go on.” He goads both of them forward with a kiss to both of their foreheads. “Get out of here.” There’s a pause as he rushes forwards to inspect the lock on the front door. “Now.” It’s an order. The finality of which, resounds against the space surrounding them.

“Dennis?” Elaine pauses. Her heart pulls tight in her own chest as she meets his expectant gaze. “Be careful.” It’s as good as any ‘I love you’ she has ever offered to anyone. With that she ambles towards the back door with Molly still ensnared in her arms.

“You too.” His hushed words get swallowed in the wake. He can’t afford to be overheard. It would tell those no-good goons that he wasn’t alone therefore, endangering Elaine and Molly. He’d sooner die than have that happen.

[avictimofthejazz]

Open--Elaine Grazzo

“Can you believe this guy?” Elaine rolls her eyes good-naturedly, a smile hovering over her lips as the gentleman in front of her keeps babbling on about his lizard collection, obvious to the world around him.  Going to parties is always an interesting adventure, and a way to meet new people. Too often though, she meets guys more like Lizard Fanatic here then any real winners. Still... hope always sprang eternal it seems...  “Come on,” She gestures for the person next to her to step away. “Let’s try and slip away before he starts explaining his process for acquiring mealworms. Unless you’re really into the fascinating world of Lizard Upkeep, and want to stay longer?” 

[avictimofthejazz]

What is Elaine's greatest fear and why?

Elaine’s greatest fear is to be forgotten—to go through her life in a rut that never leads to anything beyond the absolute basics of being alive. She is not asking to change the world, or become a celebrity—she just wants to know that she did something that justifies her existence. That she was important to someone, or took on a cause that mattered. This worry stems from her parents. Both of them constantly insisted to Elaine and her older sister Kathleen that neither of them would turn into anything useful. They claimed that the only hope the girls had was to marry wealthy men, as they would not be able to do anything on their own. Kathleen married her trust-fund baby, but Elaine never found one. Though she claims it does not matter, and she is not worried about money or social status, the idea preys on her mind. Sometimes she thinks she missed her shot by not getting a rich fraternity guy at college the way Kathleen did—but then sometimes she is convinced she still has one. Those little moments give her hope.

[avictimofthejazz]

Open

“I need to get out of this office so I’m going out to get coffee.  Does you want something too?” The secretary pauses in the doorway, waiting to see if her friend has any requests before she leaves. 

[avictimofthejazz]

Elaine kiss Booker or Murph

Elaine’s cheeks tinge pink at the unexpected question, and she resists the urge to press her hands over them. It is like this person has been watching the office, and knows about the handsome men who work with her! At least they did not ask about all three guys—that would be more embarrassing than she wants to admit too!

“Oh come on,” She laughs and rubs lightly at her face. “Like either of those guys would want to kiss me! Let’s be real here!” Still, the question demands an answer. Despite the pink quickly turning to red, she finds herself seriously considering her options. In the end, only one choice stands clear. Even if Murphy is cute, and kind, her answer will always favor Booker. Dropping her eyes shyly, she bites down on her bottom lip before confessing. “If I had to pick between them, I’d pick Dennis. Not that he’d ever notice, what with the supermodel types he likes to go out with!” she quickly adds on. “I’m just his secretary. Guys never seriously notice secretaries—just in a kind of casual way, or if they want to harass us. Dennis is too nice to do the latter, and well…” She trails off quietly, eyes focusing on her haphazardly stacked pen cup. “Like I said, he likes to go out with supermodel types…”  

[avictimofthejazz]

Running her hands through her hair, Elaine looks around the cellar worriedly. She has no idea what she is looking for here, except that she has been searching for over an hour. She is also utterly terrified to return to the Queen’s Rangers without anything to show for her efforts. Not naturally inclined toward espionage, Elaine knows she is in over her head… but how could she say ‘no’ to the officer when he indicated Captain Simcoe himself had made mention of this situation? The whole village is somewhat terrified of the unstable Captain, and wishes for the Queen’s Rangers to stay miles away from their peaceful hamlet. Besides, the officer indicated that he could clear up some of her own problems if she assisted in bringing justice to a dangerous fugitive of the Crown. She wishes that she could say fear had been her sole motivator, but the secondary offer is terribly tempting as well… Even if she never demonstrated overwhelming loyalty to the Crown, Elaine has never categorized herself as a Patriot either. Unfortunately, when she questioned Kathleen’s husband about his eagerness to profit off the misfortunes of the Strong family, merely because Selah had been arrested and sent to a prison ship in York City’s harbor, he dubbed her a Patriot sympathizer. He quickly spread that rumor before booting her out of his house, leaving her scrambling to stay afloat even as her former friends and neighbors shunned her. A hand drops from her hair to rub over her nose. Her problems are not going to be solved by crying about them.   She also fears her problems are not going to be solved by this grubby little mission either…. Flopping down on a seat in the surprisingly well-furnished space, considering the ruin above her head, Elaine sighs. She really cannot imagine Abraham Woodhull is a spy for the Patriots. The man cannot even have an affair without the whole town knowing about it. How can he possibly spy on anyone? Still, the officer wants proof of espionage… and all she has found so far are generic statements about Abraham’s father’s business in York City, and his studies there. There is also a bottle with a strange liquid in it she cannot identify, but she doubts it is anything noteworthy. Hearing the woman’s voice from up the stairs nearly makes Elaine jump out of her skin. Yelping, and clutching a hand to her chest, she hurriedly makes her way up the stairs by the light of the lantern she left on the desk. Maybe she can lie her way out of this? Even as she thinks that she scrunches up her nose. She is a horrible liar and always has been… but how can she tell the truth? It is far too ridiculous for anyone to believe her.

Before the person outside can open the doors, Elaine pushes them out from inside. “You don’t have to call the magistrate!” she admits hurriedly. “I can explain everything! I know it’s the Woodhull family property, but I can explain! Really.” Frantically, she keeps emphasizing that she can justify her presence here, even if nothing she says truly will be able too.

Recognizing Mary’s sister from around town, she swallows awkwardly. “Um… well… this isn’t my property… but why don’t you come on down? It’s safer down here, then running around up there in the dark.”

~Open to all ~ Eliza Smith

She SWEARS that she had seen it. A tinge of light beckoning from between cracked and rotted floorboards where her sister's house once stood. Shivering to herself, she pursues the light. Her hours at Whitehall had been filled with the rumors of cowboys, skinners, and rangers- all unpleasant types who want to bring HARM to innocents. She will not abide danger being brought to Mary or her nephew (Sprout).

"Y----you -- you should not be here!! I will fetch the Magistrate! Thi-- this is his son's property. My sister's property." She wearily and tumultuously calls as she approaches the cellar. Honestly, Eliza prays that she sounds far braver than she actually feels. She hoists her own lantern a bit higher as she goes to fling the cumbersome cellar doors wide open.

[avictimofthejazz]

‘✈’ Bernice & Elaine

@timeguardians (Bernice)

Settling into her window seat, Elaine busily starts setting her area up. Tray table is locked into its proper place. Her purse is properly stowed. She has no cigarette to worry about putting out…

Fussing about, she glances up when another figure steps into her row. Then she starts grinning. “Bernice! I had no idea you’d be on this flight!” Leaning conspiratorially closer, she lowers her voice. “What’s taking you to New York? That sax player I heard someone mention? Or is New York just one step closer to Greece and your dreamy hunk Kostas?” she teases. She would much rather talk about why Bernice is heading to New York, then why she is going out so far. Sexy sax players and smoking hot Greek lawyers are a lot more fun to discuss then admitting she is running after her deadbeat-almost husband. She is not about to make an attempt to get Clay back… but she does want the money he stole from her returned. Elaine’s cheeks still flush slightly when she thinks about what a fool she has been. It was like Clay knew how lonely she was, and how she had accepted that Dennis would never look twice at her. He played on that to the tune of trying to steal Teshima contacts, actually stealing two thousand dollars of her savings, and making her waste a day sitting at City Hall waiting for him to turn up so they could get married. No. She is not in the mood to tell Bernice any of that pathetic little story. She is much more interested in what interesting or exotic adventure is taking her friend abroad, then in anything she is up too.

[avictimofthejazz]

I Sold You to a Pet Store! 

[avictimofthejazz]

@honorhearted​

Continued from Here

As soon as the man explained his situation, Elaine nodded. “Oh—you must be Mr. Tallmadge. Ms. Rudd told us that you would be coming here today. Dennis had to run an errand, but he’ll be back in a few minutes. He left me the files though, so you can start looking at them.”

Elaine decided to tactfully leave out the fact that when Dennis went out to run errands, they sometimes took several hours, and he came back with a black eye. There was no point in worrying Mr. Tallmadge about that. He had enough to worry about with the Arnold case. The Arnold case was already front-page news…but then when a decorated war-hero tuned into a potential traitor (though never proven) wound up murdered not long after his significantly younger wife took out an extensive life insurance policy on the man through Teshima….well….that kind of case did make headlines. Especially when there were rumors of an attractive lover in the background. Teshima’s interests centered less around the salacious details, however, and more on the fact that they would have to pay Mrs. Arnold a cool six million dollars if she had nothing to do with her husband’s death. Needless to say, Chick Stirling—the head manager of this office—was more then keen to find a connection between Mrs. Arnold and the murder. Since the murder became public knowledge, it had been the primary case on Booker’s, and therefore her, desk. Finding the files, she knew Mr. Tallmadge would want, she handed them over. “The life insurance paperwork is right on top—Mrs. Arnold took out the policy about eight weeks ago.” She paused before adding, “Between you and me, normally we don’t like handling policies this big, but the Shippen family has connections, you know. And Mrs. Arnold said she needed that much to cover debts from her husband’s failed business schemes if he should die all of a sudden.” Or be found dead in his car on a deserted track by the reservoir with the back of his head blown out by a gunshot wound. Mrs. Arnold eagerly supplied the police with a rather long list of enemies her husband had made but interest still kept circling back to her. She certainly had the most to gain and disgruntled business partners rarely shot each other—a dead body could not pay off debts easily.

“You can take a seat in here, Mr. Tallmadge,” She went to push open the door that separated her desk from Dennis’s office. “Do you want coffee or anything?”

[avictimofthejazz]

@wecangobackvictorious​

Continued from HERE

Elaine jumped a bit, almost dropping the offending office implement, when Easy addressed her. “Oh…um….” A flushed turned her ears pink. “I was kind of…talking to myself….” Clearing her throat, she held the stapler up for Easy to see. She doubted it would do anything to remove the baffled look from the man’s face, but it seemed like a decent enough start. “If I was into betting, I’d say that Sheila—she covers for me on my days off—I’ll bet she tried to staple like thirty sheets of paper together and jammed it up.” Perching on the corner of her desk, Elaine pried the stapler open, dumped most of the staples into her palm and set them down next to her. Then she squinted down into the device before sighing. “Yep….just like I thought. There’re four or five staples stuck at the opening, and they’ve all tangled together.”

Reaching up, she started patting her hair down and stopped abruptly when she realized she wore it loose that morning. “You…uh…wouldn’t happen to have anything on you that I could pull these out with, sir? Normally I use a bobby pin but…uh….I don’t have one today and I don’t want to upend my purse looking for strays.”

[avictimofthejazz]

What Is Your Place in the Royal Court?

The Knight.

A defender, strong as stone, you make it a mission to defend. never would you turn your back on those in need; valorous, a paragon, a sword raised in battle with a cry on your lips... but, be warned, noble knight, that you do not fall to the sword, yourself. are these ideals worth dying for?

The Jester.

You spark humor wherever you wander, always seeking to brighten a room with the roar of laughter. but, you are no fool. you have seen the pain in the world, and you would give anything to keep others from feeling it, too. though, humor is a balm, not a cure. take care you do not merely conceal your tragedy beneath a smile.

The Knight

A defender, strong as stone, you make it a mission to defend. never would you turn your back on those in need; valorous, a paragon, a sword raised in battle with a cry on your lips... but, be warned, noble knight, that you do not fall to the sword, yourself. are these ideals worth dying for?

[avictimofthejazz]

@wecangobackvictorious​ Continued from HERE 

Elaine waited expectantly when the man assured her that everything was fine, while looking as lost as a fish that found itself in an amusement park. A second later, he was laughing bashfully, and she smiled a bit. She guessed he had to be lost but wanted to see if he would admit as much before she started poking for information. This man though, he seemed willing to admit when he was in over his head—an admirable trait given that most of the men on this base would not admit as much while they were actively drowning. Pride had its place but certainly not when it would just get a person into more trouble!

When the man located his note with the needed information, she softly closed the file drawer. “You are in the wrong place sir, but not by much. 7A’s right around the corner—I’ll show you.”

Moving toward the doorway, she politely gestured for him to go first though she suspected he would return it. Most of the men here might have dirty mouths and a cocky swagger usually found in frat houses but they certainly had had manners drilled into them. She had been called ‘ma’am’ more times in the last few months then she had ever been called in her life before coming to the base.

“You must be the new instructor—the civilian.” She cast her mind back for the memo that had been released regarding his arrival. “Mr. Julian, wasn’t it?”

The man’s arrival was hardly a confidential secret. While there was some speculation about why they sought to bring in a civilian consultant, the fact he had been a Tuskegee Airman likely factored heavily into why Metcalf recruited him. At least that was the most popular rumor going around. Elaine had heard others, but she put less stock in those ideas, which ranged from Mr. Julian being personal friends with someone running the program to the Navy trying to satisfy some new obscure government rule about diverse teaching staffs.

���7A’s technically in the area for the civilian instructors but, I’ll warn you now, there aren’t too many of you. They’re talking about merging some of the areas to be more efficient so they might be moving you around for the next few weeks. That’s just a rumor though—you probably know how those go around bases, sir.” She grinned.

[avictimofthejazz]

Which Fairytale Archetype are You?  Pt. 2

The Boy King

The boy king has a huge burden placed on his shoulders. With a dead father who perished in battle or was poisoned, a shrewd and scheming mother, an abundance of homicidal relations, and a nation to rule, he can either become a puppet or the most formidable ruler a nation has seen.

The Scrappy Hero A farmer with a dirty face who gains half the kingdom and the princesses' hand in marriage. Most likely the youngest son of three, distinguished not by opportunity, but by either his wits, or his kindness towards all he encounters, from royals to honeybees, which causes him to garner favours and praise.

The Scrappy Hero

A farmer with a dirty face who gains half the kingdom and the princesses' hand in marriage. Most likely the youngest son of three, distinguished not by opportunity, but by either his wits, or his kindness towards all he encounters, from royals to honeybees, which causes him to garner favours and praise.

The Boy King

The boy king has a huge burden placed on his shoulders. With a dead father who perished in battle or was poisoned, a shrewd and scheming mother, an abundance of homicidal relations, and a nation to rule, he can either become a puppet or the most formidable ruler a nation has seen.